


There Will Be Time

by HollyShadow88



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, Parentlock, Sherlock is a Good Parent, TFP doesn't exist, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, except to give me parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9737231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyShadow88/pseuds/HollyShadow88
Summary: When John and Sherlock are forced to cancel their Valentine's Day plans with Rosie, Sherlock manages to figure out a way to make Rosie's day special regardless.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I went into this day not expecting to write Valentine's fluff and yet here we are. The mature rating is literally just because there are a few paragraphs at the end leading into smut (which I could probably be convinced to write if y'all are interested).

As John shut the front door and leaned back against it, he huffed out a sigh.  Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he pushed away and made his way slowly up the stairs, his joints creaking in complaint as he went.  It had been years since he worked a full day at any clinic, but Sarah had sounded desperate when she called that morning.  He promised himself after Mary that he would never go back and had kept to it up until now.  The moment Sarah’s voice hitched as she begged for him to come in or they’d have to close for the day, however, John knew he couldn’t say no, despite the awful memories that came with the place.

Worse than having to return was telling Rosie that their plans had to be changed.  He and Sherlock told her the week before that they would both be there to pick her up after her daycare group finished up at noon, a list of activities for the three of them to occupy their Valentine’s afternoon at the ready.  That morning she skipped down the stairs from her room, decked out in a bright red dress with pink polka dots they picked out specifically for the holiday, and ran circles around the sitting room in her excitement.  John watched her with a knife digging into his chest at the disappointment he knew was inevitable when she found out that he couldn’t participate.  Before he could tell her, Sherlock stopped him with a hand on his arm and a small shake of his head.  As John finished getting ready, Sherlock knelt before a quickly deflating Rosie as he explained what happened.

“I’m so sorry, honeybee,” John had said, pulling her into a hug.  She sniffled into his collar and he cuddled her closer into his chest.  “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.  I wish there was something I could do.”

She ducked under his arm to look up at him with enormous eyes.  “It’s okay, Daddy.  You hav’ta go doctor because people get sick and you fixes them.  You’re a good doctor-daddy.”

John chuckled and kissed her head.  “I’m not too sure about that, but thank you, darling.  I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”

“But you are a good doctor because you’re the only one Papa’ll let take care of him an’ Papa only consultiates with people who are real good like Aunt Molly an’ Uncle Greg an’ you’re a good daddy because you keep me safe an’ give me super duper bubbly baths an’ take me to the park an’ make the best of all the snacks of everybody at school an’ you love me an’ Papa super hard.”  She patted his cheek, her face set into a determined scowl that was a miniature replica of Sherlock’s.  John felt the beginnings of tears behind his eyes and hid them in a smile.

“Thank you, little bumblebee.  You’re pretty excellent yourself.”  He rose to his feet as she darted into the kitchen and his smile turned sad when he spotted Sherlock.  They stepped toward each other at the same moment, Sherlock pulling him close.  “I feel like a complete dick.”

“You’re not a dick,” Sherlock muttered into his hair.  “You’re a good doctor-daddy who is helping someone out during an emergency.  We don’t need some commercial holiday as an excuse to spend the day spoiling Rosie with love – we’ll just do it another day, she understands.  She’s bright that way.”  Shifting around so he could hold John’s face in his hands, Sherlock kissed him.  “Now go help people, we’ll be fine.”

Now, after nearly ten hours as one of two doctors on call, John finally returned home to hopefully spend a little bit of time with his two loves on Valentine’s Day.  He could hear Sherlock and Rosie talking in the kitchen and headed directly through that door, taking his bag and jacket with him.

“Daddy!”  Rosie jumped out of her chair, racing over to John to throw her arms around his legs.  In one of her hands, she clutched a stuffed animal he didn’t recognize, a matching one sitting on the table next to Sherlock.  He grinned over at John as she grabbed at his hand to pull him over to join them.  “Daddy, Papa and I had the bestest day ever!”

“Best day ever, hmm?” John asked with a raised eyebrow, accepting the tea Sherlock held out for him.  He sat in Rosie’s chair and settled her on his knee.  “I’m sorry I missed it.  What did you do?”

“Papa took me to the ZOO!”  She waved the stuffed animal up at him at the same time as she grabbed the second one.  “An’ look, we found otters that are just like you an’ Papa!”  As soon as their front paws were close enough, magnets hidden under the fur caused them to attach as though they were holding hands.  John chuckled and rubbed one of the otter’s hands.

“Sounds like you two had a good day after all.  What did you see?”

“You gotta check, Daddy!  You can see it too!”

When John sent Sherlock a raised brow, Sherlock nodded at John’s jacket.  “You haven’t checked your mobile?”

“I never had a chance…”  John dug around his pocket and pulled it out.  In his texts from Sherlock, he had nearly two hundred messages, all of them containing either pictures or videos of Sherlock and Rosie at the zoo.  He caught a glimpse of something that must have been a Snapchat filter, the two of them decorated with deer ears and freckles making faces in front of the flamingo exhibit.  John’s grin widened as he opened a video and watched Rosie squeal at the penguins, Sherlock’s deep voice booming over the speakers as he told her about them while she ran back and forth in front of the glass to chase them as they swam.  He found a picture that Rosie had obviously taken while they were in the butterfly enclosure where Sherlock had an enormous blue butterfly sitting balanced on his curls and forehead.  Though the edges were slightly blurry, Sherlock’s surprised expression and wide eyes were clear.

“We didn’t want you to miss out on anything,” Sherlock explained, his voice tentative.  “I knew we said we’d have our afternoon with her another day, but…well, I just wanted to give her something for the day, even if it wasn’t what we originally planned.  I hope that’s okay.”

“’Course it’s okay,” John replied quickly.  “More than okay.  That was a brilliant idea, love.”  He grabbed Sherlock’s shirt and mashed their lips together.  On his lap, Rosie rolled her eyes and clutched her otters tighter.

“Daddy, that’s gross,” she declared as she climbed down and scrunched her nose at them.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, kiddo, that means I get to kiss your papa all I want,” John told her when they pulled apart.

“You kiss Papa all the time anyway!” she cried.  Sherlock stood and chased her out of the room, her squeals echoing through the flat.  John followed them out and found Sherlock blowing raspberries into Rosie’s stomach, her arms flung out with an otter in each hand as she giggled and tried to get away.  Both of their faces were lit up in broad smiles when Sherlock released her and John’s stomach swooped in bright joy.

“Alright, Watson, you’re due downstairs,” Sherlock declared, tickling her towards the door.  “Mrs. H needs her baking helper if she’s to finish all of her treats tonight.”

“COOKIES!” Rosie screeched as she ran down the stairs.  They heard Mrs. Hudson’s door open and close, Rosie’s muffled voice and footsteps echoing even from far away.  Sherlock strolled to the door and closed it, cutting off the noise, before turning to lean against it and grin over at John.

“I’ve organized for her to stay the night with Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock said while crossing his arms over his chest.  John slowly approached him, bracketing him back against the door with his hands on either side of his head.

“Is that so?” John muttered as he leaned in to nuzzle his neck.  “Whatever shall we do with all of this sudden free time?”

Sherlock’s hand came down to settle on John’s waist.  He let his head fall back and John’s lips settled on his jaw.  “There may be a few…suggestions in our bedroom.”

“Oh is there?”  John shifted so that he held Sherlock’s face close to his with one hand, the other drifting down to pull him into John by his arse.  “Why don’t you show me, then?”

They grinned at each other before racing to the bedroom, both of them shedding their clothes as they went.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the poem The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot.


End file.
